


Shut Up and Dance

by aziraley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, UST, eventual rst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aziraley/pseuds/aziraley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam find a case in a Midwestern gay bar. Will Dean and Cas finally take the opportunity or will they repress their little hearts out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

.....

Ever since the brothers ejected Lucifer from Castiel's vessel, they were staying away from their usual salt-n-burns and pouring all of their efforts into researching the Darkness. 

Unfortunately, results were not forthcoming. The primordial deity was older than anything they had encountered. Because the Darkness was so powerful and was caged so long ago, the only beings that were alive to know her were God, Death, and the archangels. Since Dean had so recently killed Death, God was AWOL, and all the archangels were either dead or off-limits, the two hunters were left with few resources from which to form any sort of plan. 

After going through Bobby's old books and all the bunker's resources that looked potentially useful, they were starting to get disheartened.

The mere two books they had felt somewhat justified in setting aside for further review after all of these many weeks of searching only had short, vague passages about "ancient power" and "bringing about the darkest and last of nights." Neither selection was helpful nor heartening. The brothers weren't even too hopeful the passages were referring to the Darkness.

The utter paucity of any semblance of progress made for one very stir crazy hunter.

.....

Dean walked out of his room dressed in his customary leather jacket and boots. He had been itching so badly to take Baby on the road and get on a hunt and just *do* something that he was nearly jumping out of his skin. It had been over a month since they had been away from their research for longer than a meal or supply run. 

Dean wasn't a stranger to research, but he was reaching the end of his rope. He had books all over his room, books in his bed, and books in Baby. He couldn't remember the last time he had fallen asleep without a dusty old tome propped up inches from his nose. 

He strode into the war room, which was barely visible under the realm of organized chaos the two hunters had created over the last several weeks. There were charts of past Darkness encounters and other interwoven bits of their meager knowledge lining the wall, the fridge, and every square inch of the long rectangular table in the middle of the room. Dean had eaten standing up by the sink for the past three weeks.

"Sammy!" Dean infused his declaration with all of the confidence of a frustrated older brother who was used to getting his way. 

"What, Dean?" Sam sighed from his usual perch near the middle of the table, surrounded piles of books. He eyed Dean's jacket and boots. The keys to the Impala jingled in his brother's hand. 

Sam had known this was coming sooner or later - Dean hated being off the road this long - but he had been hoping he had just a little more time. There was a lead he had been working on, and he wanted to investigate it to completion for the sake of due diligence. If they were defeated at the hands of Amara, at least it wouldn't be because Sam had abandoned a potential source of information. Nonetheless, he couldn't say he wouldn't relish a chance to stretch his legs and get away from the constant parade of dead ends he had encountered. 

Dean didn't waste any time. He shifted his weight. "Sammy. Locking up the Darkness is the most important thing now, and don't I know it, but if I don't get out of here, I'm going to go out of my gourd. I've been away from Baby too long and we haven't ganked anything in weeks. We need to find a case."

"Okay."

"Listen Sammy. We haven't made any progress whatsoever. We know absolutely nothing about where to even start to find information about Amara, much less how to stop her, and -"

"Dean! It's okay." Sam cut his brother off before he could get too worked up. "I understand. You're right; We've been cooped up for too long. And both of us could use a refresher. If we're going to defeat Amara, now isn't the time to be off our game."

Dean relaxed his shoulders. He was thrilled they didn't have to waste more time arguing. "Then let's get to it." He started toward his room to get his phone.

Sammy was already grabbing his laptop before he stopped and called out to his brother before he could shut the door. "Wait. Dean. What about Cas?" 

Dean stopped and turned to face his brother. "What about him?"

"He should come with us." Sam took a breath. He had a feeling he knew what Dean's response would be.

Dean scoffed. "What? Cas just got done being the devil's meatsuit. You of all people should know how much he needs his rest."

Sam gave Dean one of his patented soulful looks, resting his elbows on a stack of papers in front of his laptop. "It's been a month, Dean. He's been just as buried under these books as we have. He's not an invalid. Are you forgetting so soon how Lucifer managed to get his permission to wear him to the prom? Dean, he didn't feel useful. Hunting with us might help him." 

Dean turned away for a few seconds and looked back at his brother. He looked frustrated but defeated. "Of course he's not useless; I told him that's ridiculous. But if it's what he needs then I'll go tell him to start searching for leads."

Sam stood up and walked toward him. "Dean. You're gonna have to talk to him sometime. With Amara out there, the next time Cas decides to be self-sacrificing, he might not survive. We were lucky this time. He needs us." 

Dean's kept his face carefully neutral and pretended he misunderstood Sam's meaning. "Fine. I'll go talk to him about the case right away. Tell me if you find anything; I'm going to make some calls."

.....

Cas sat in the bunker's library pouring over yet another fragile and musty artifact. He had almost enjoyed the tedious work of constantly scanning text for references to the Darkness. Sam could translate much of the library's contents, but they needed Castiel for the truly ancient pieces. It was nice to be needed.

He had nearly finished his perusal of a delicate cuneiform scroll when a very disgruntled-looking Dean came into the library and plopped down in the closest chair. 

"Hello Dean." Cas set down the scroll and looked to the man in front of him.

Dean would never get used to the startlingly piercing stare the angel took on when he gave the hunter his undivided attention. He leaned his elbows on the smooth wood of the table and met the angel's gaze with a determined expression.

"Hey Cas. I just convinced Sammy to take a break from all of this paper pushing, so we're gonna start looking for a new case. If you have anyone you can contact or want to help look for any signs, we're gonna hit the road as soon as we find something."

Cas couldn't help the small smile that quirked up the corner of his mouth. He had been concerned the Winchesters would try to handle him with kid gloves and wouldn't want his help after he had played house with Lucifer so recently. "Of course, Dean. I'm unsure if there's anyone I can contact anymore, but I'd be happy to help."

"Are you sure, Cas? You've been through a lot. If you want to stay here and take a load off, we'll understand." Dean tried unsuccessfully to hide his concern for the once-fallen angel.

"We've all been through a lot. 'Taking a load off' is how the debacle with Lucifer began in the first place. I think I would be happier assisting the two of you in whichever way you'll allow." 

Cas knew Dean had been avoiding talking to him about his decision to say yes to Lucifer and hoped that referencing it now would stop any protests Dean might have in regards to hunting with the brothers in their tracks. 

Dean leaned back at the mention of Lucifer. He opened his mouth and looked like he was about to argue, but then suddenly snapped his jaw shut. "Okay. Okay, Cas. I'll keep you updated." The hunter looked away and left the library without another word.

Cas' ploy had worked. He was glad, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. Dean didn't want to talk about it, but he would, eventually. The hunter didn't possess a high range of emotional savvy, but he eventually he would get angry, just as Cas had gotten angry when Dean almost said yes to Michael.

Cas wasn't looking forward to the confrontation. He knew he deserved whatever Dean had to say.

.....

Dean leaned on the cluttered war room table, impatiently drumming his fingers on the closest pile of books. His own search had yielded what might be a few basic salt-n-burns, but nothing too promising. "Alright Sammy, whattya got?"

Sam wondered if Dean's typical brand of wanderlust would be enough to get him to overlook the details of this very...unusual case. He doubted it. 

"I'm not exactly sure. It's at a bar in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It appears that couples are leaving the bar in a much more...amorous state than when they arrived. Now, this wouldn't be a case, except most of the couples are dying within three days of leaving the bar, and all of them were seen on the dance floor."

"So they're leaving, fucking, and kicking the bucket? But only most of them? Not all."

Sam tapped a pen on his notepad. "Yeah, that's the part I'm struggling with. Most of the things we deal with don't leave much in the way of survivors. It doesn't match up. Incubi drain the life force of their victims and don't typically stop unless they're killed before they can finish. It could be a witch, but Bobby's old contact said there was no sign of hexbags."

"Great. So, maybe a cursed object, maybe a siren, maybe something new. At least there will be hot chicks and beer. I'll pack up Baby; we'll head out tonight."

"Uh, Dean."

"Yeah?"

Sam sighed, bracing himself for the raging insecurity that was Dean Winchester's sexuality. "There won't be hot chicks. Or if there are, they probably won't be interested. It's more of a men's bar."

Dean stopped, his face carefully blank. "Sammy. Are you trying to tell me that it's a gay bar?"

Sam launched the speech he had prepared for this moment. "Yes, it's a gay bar, Dean. But don't get your panties in a twist, the curse or whatever it is seems to only happen to established couples. Your heterosexuality will live to see another day."

Dean snorted but his face visibly relaxed. "Nonetheless there will be no dancing of any kind. If you expect me to dance with you, we're going to seriously need someone else to come on this hunt with us."

"Exactly. Which is another reason it'll be good to have Cas there."

"Oh come on, Sam. The guy just had Lucifer riding his ass, he doesn't need, well, some random dude doing the same thing!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean. He doesn't have to dance with a random; I'll do it."

Dean's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "You'll dance with Cas? Why would you wanna dance with Cas? Don't you wanna run this by him first?"

"Well it's either that, or I dance with you, or you dance with Cas. I have an idea which of those options you'd prefer." Sam didn't indicate which option he meant.

Anyway, it's not like it has to be much in the way of dancing. Going out on the dance floor will probably be enough. And somehow I don't think that walking out onto a dancefloor will bother a guy who has been around for millennia." 

Dean knew he was losing this one. "Sam, he's an angel! He doesn't wanna go to some meat market gay bar!" 

"Yeah I can totally see how this is so much worse than the *brothel* you insisted on bringing him to." 

Castiel appeared in the war room and tilted his head. "Is the case in another den of iniquity? Dean has already warned me 'not to order off the menu.'"

Sam choked on nothing. "Dean!"

Dean pinched his forehead and shook his head. "Look... Just... Whatever. It's clear we're going to do this so let's get on the road. Sammy, get Cas up to speed while I pack up in case you guys can come up with an attack plan we haven't thought of yet."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised smut in this chapter, but I think more plot has to happen to make it what I have in my mind. Sorry about that, but hopefully this way it'll be better!

As Dean backed Baby away from the bunker, he could feel the tension drain out of him. While he was happy to finally have a home base in the Men of Letters' bunker, the Impala and the open road was where he felt most comfortable. He had all of five minutes to relax with his Baby and the cry of ACDC before he snapped back to reality and remembered the precise nature of his destination.

Dean wasn't bothered that the case was based in a gay bar - in fact, quite the opposite, which is the part that had him on edge. He turned up the radio and involuntarily glanced at Cas in the rear-view mirror. The angel's typically perfect composure was abandoned as he slumped against the right-side door in the backseat and stared out the window with his eyebrows knitted in thought. 

"Hey Cas, you holding up alright back there?" Dean had to raise his voice to be heard over the excessively loud chorus of Back in Black. 

Cas refocused his attention to the hunter. "Yes, Dean. I am merely concerned. When Sam and I spoke earlier regarding the case, it was clear we would be expected to dance at the establishment in question. However, I have never danced before and fear my lack of skills may not serve our purpose." Cas wrinkled his brow and folded his hands in his lap.

Dean snorted. "Don't worry Cas. No one is going to make you dance with the Sasquatch, no matter how much he wants it."

Sam rolled his eyes. "The dancing is only so we can find whatever is causing these deaths. Most likely we won't need to do any more than walk to the edge of the dancefloor so we can have a decent vantage point to view our surroundings. If we end up having to dance, all we'll have to do is stand near each other and shuffle our feet a bit. If you're worried, Cas, just watch me."

Dean scoffed. "Watch you? You couldn't hold a beat if it was handed to you." 

Sam turned around to look at Cas over the back of the seat with imploring eyes, ignoring Dean's hypercritical interjection. "Cas, if you don't want to dance, I can find someone in the club, it's not a big deal. Plus, we could use the extra eyes in the club since we don't yet know what we're up against."

Cas sat up from his slouch, all the more self-conscious about his rare lapse in posture when faced with the gaze of the young hunter. "No, Sam. I want to be of use. If I can't learn more about human customs then I won't be of any service on cases. I'm happy to assist in whatever way I can."

"Thanks, Cas. I-We really appreciate it." Sam thought about his earlier conversation with Dean. The angel needed to feel useful and not expendable, and for that to happen Dean needed to end his laconic streak and get his head out from where it was buried oh-so-very deeply in his ass. Sam's continued assurances would just serve to highlight Dean's silence.

Dean kept his eyes resolutely on the road as his brother settled back into his book. He knew he had been letting his discomfort show more than he would like since Sam spilled the beans on the nature of their current hunt. It had become more and more of a struggle to ignore the anxiety that built up when he thought of Cas participating in this particular case. For the first few years, the hunter had dismissed these thoughts, thinking that his predilection toward worrying about the angel was similar to his protective feelings for Sam. He had been partially right, but under all the years of denial lived the tiny, nagging spark of truth that said he knew exactly what his feelings for his comrade-in-arms truly were. 

As the Impala rumbled down the open road, Dean turned up the music yet again and rolled down his window, belting out lyrics as if he could drown out his thoughts with the familiarity and comfort of a thousand road trips from days past. 

He feared the outcome of this hunt; the dancefloor, the couples, and the location all seemed to be mocking the careful facade Dean had erected and oh-so-diligently repaired time and time again. There were some things he couldn't imagine ever being ready to let see the light of day, so he naturally fell back on his old habits and attempted to pretend nothing was wrong. 

A light punch to his shoulder jolted him out of his conflicted thoughts. Dean turned the volume down after glancing at his brother's customary bitchface. "Alright. If we're going to go to the club sooner rather than later we have to make a few stops. We can't go in what we're wearing, and we're going to need to run by an ATM since it's a cash-only bar."

"And what exactly is wrong with wearing what we wear to every other bar?" Dean sputtered indignantly.

Sam gave a long-suffering sigh. "It's not a bar; it's a club. There isn't a dress code that I could find, but if we want to look like we belong we'll have to wear something a little less practical." 

"I don't like it, Sammy." Dean knew there was no use arguing further, no matter how much he wanted to. He wasn't going to sacrifice his professionalism just because of a few wayward thoughts.

"Shocking."

"Fine. When we get to Michigan we'll pick up some clothes before settling in." He chanced a darting glance at the object of his inner turmoil in the backseat. "Cas, you catch all that?" 

Something was off with the angel. He was still slouched into his seat and staring out the window, but his brows were knitted in thought. Yet, as he heard Dean speak, he straightened up the tiniest amount and the worry lines disappeared from his forehead. "Yes, Dean. It may be fortuitous that we have to make an additional stop, as these remain the only clothes I have in my possession. It is my understanding that a bit of variety may enhance my ability to pass as human." 

Dean thought that "fortuitous" was the exact opposite of how he would characterize their current situation, but he shrugged it off and put on a smirk. "Thinking of losing the trenchcoat for once? I never thought I'd see the day."

"Yes. It has come to my attention that I should more fully acclimate to human culture, since returning to heaven is not an option."

 _And likely never will be again._ Cas had been matter-of-fact in his assessment, but the unspoken words were left hanging in the air between them, as Sam was once again obliviously engrossed in research.

Dean cleared his throat, tightening his hands on the wheel and searching for something to say that would both reassure the angel that he was needed here, and avoid the kind of conversation that made the hunter want to panic and run. Before he could force out a half-assed sentiment, Cas picked up the ball.

"However, I fear that choosing my own clothing may be less than strategic, so I would prefer if you could help me pick something appropriate for the venue." Cas folded his hands together, almost as if in prayer, and leaned toward the front of Baby's interior.

The thought of watching Cas play dress-up nearly made Dean choke, but luckily (or not) Sam glanced up from his book and intervened. 

"Don't worry Cas. I don't know if we'll always be the best help, but this is something we can manage. And we'll be sure to pick up some everyday clothes for you when we stop; clothes that are appropriate for a club aren't clothes you'll want to wear often."

Cas glanced at Dean before shifting his gaze to the younger hunter. "Thank you, Sam. I always appreciate your help."

Dean groaned internally and shifted subtly in his seat when he thought of Cas in clothes that were "appropriate for a club". He had gone into this case itching for the hunt, but they were barely out the gate and now all he could think about was ganking whatever this was as quickly as possible and getting the hell away from what felt like an impending disaster.

As Castiel leaned back into his seat, Dean turned the music back up and steeled himself for what was to come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cas go clothes shopping for the hunt, leaving Dean brooding at the motel.

After being on the road for what was simultaneously the longest and shortest twelve hours of Dean's life, it was with no small amount of trepidation that he unpacked his bag in their room at the Pleasant Motel in Grand Rapids. 

Sam and Cas had dropped Dean at the motel and left in Baby in search of the closest and cheapest shop they could find that would have the appropriate clothes to allow them to blend in with the crowd at the club. 

Dean had begged off, claiming he would only be in the way and instructing Sam to grab something that would fit him (with an explicit mandate that it not be "too froofy"). It was moments like these that he was grateful for the hunting lifestyle; living in such close quarters with Sam for so long meant they knew exactly what the other needed.

Sam hadn't batted an eye, as if he had expected Dean's neuroses to show up at any time - and the more Dean tried to not think about why that might be, the more his mind wandered, punctuated with flashes of chapped lips and brilliant sapphire blue. 

He was so caught up in his inner turmoil that he barely took note of the small metal box affixed to the wall that would ordinarily represent a rare spot of relaxation in his turbulent life. Although, that could have been because the hunter was doing his best to eschew all thoughts related to his guilty pleasures - and doing a very poor job of it.

Dean figured he had about half an hour before Sam and Cas returned - that is, unless Samantha suddenly decided to buy enough clothes to match his collection of hair products. The elder of the two hunters laid back on the bed closest to the door and grabbed the ancient TV's remote off the nightstand. He flipped through the channels, intentionally and uncharacteristically passing on the Pay-Per-View porn until he found an old rerun of Dr. Sexy, which usually provided the perfect distraction between hunts.

Ten minutes into the episode, Dr. Sexy was passionately kissing the latest intern, Diana, up against the door of the on-call room of Seattle Grace Hospital. The more he watched, the more the admittedly mild scene drew Dean's attention. Diana's short hair, already inelegantly mussed from the attractive doctor's attention, was further twisted by the hand buried near the nape of her neck. As the couple moved apart, Diana looked up at her partner with slightly parted lips. Familiar lips. She looked similar to how Dean thought Cas would look with him, with lust-blown eyes and a ruddy and swollen mouth.

Dean's breath hitched. 

He snatched his hand away from where it had been suspiciously resting on his upper thigh. Dean was disgusted with himself as he grabbed the remote, immediately changing the channel. 

The hunter couldn't decide whether he wanted to beat himself up more about the fact that he couldn't manage to ignore his obvious attraction any longer or about how there was clearly something morally wrong about having these kinds of thoughts about an Angel of the Lord (Anna didn't count; she was human at the time).

Dean leaned forward and rubbed his eyes with his hands as if he could physically erase all images of Cas from his mind. He let out a breath.

 _Dammit._ Sammy wasn't back yet and the cooler with the beer was still in Baby's backseat. He wondered if he had time to walk down the street to the gas station and back before he had to face his brother and the angel.

It was at that moment that Dean heard the telltale _snick_ of the key card in the lock. His heart gave a funny little twist in his chest at the sound, but he put on his game face and self-consciously wiped his suddenly clammy palms on his worn jeans.

Dean grabbed his duffel and made a show of rustling through the contents while keeping his focus trained on the shuddering whine of the aging motel door's hinges.

Sam stumbled through the door with Cas following half a beat after him, both of them carrying several over-large bags stuffed to the brim with clothes. The angel was the first to step forward and unload his burden onto Dean's bed. The clothes had been precariously positioned in their bags and spilled out, most of them missing the bed entirely and collecting in a pile on the grimy motel room floor.

"Well, now that our 'disguises' for the night have been inducted into the Winchester lifestyle, maybe we can get this show on the road. Cas, you and Sammy will scope out the dancefloor, and I'll keep an eye out and ask a few questions."

"Of course Dean." Cas turned his customary soul-piercing gaze onto the already flustered hunter, causing Dean to abruptly remember why he had been avoiding doing exactly this. His eyes involuntarily darted down to Cas' lips and back up to those electric pools of stormy blue, a move the angel couldn't possibly have missed.

During the stare-off, Sam had started going through the bags of clothes, doing his level best to ignore the shenanigans happening literally over his head. He knew it was only going to get worse as the night went on. He grabbed a pair of gray jeans and a black long-sleeved button-up, throwing them at Dean, startling his older brother back to Earth.

"Put these on, and wear your FBI shoes instead of your boots unless you want to look like the out-of-place jerk that you are."

"Bitch." Dean was too distracted to comment on Sam's obvious recent growth of lady parts.

"Cas, change into the clothes we discussed at the store, I'm calling dibs on the bathroom." 

Dean groaned before Cas could answer. "Sammy! If you go in there first we're not going to get there until midnight, and the entire place is going to reek of all your froofy hair crap." 

Sam turned his bitchface on his brother. "If you're so worried about not getting there in time, change out here. I'm sure Cas won't mind. He'll probably even turn his back to protect your delicate modesty." He knew he was being deliberately cruel, but he was sick of tiptoeing around his idiot brother's repressed sexuality.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled as his brother disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door and quickly sliding the lock into place.

He turned toward Cas with not a small amount of trepidation. "Uh, Cas, buddy?" 

"I understand, Dean." The angel was already turning his back to the hunter.

Dean let out a small breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He quickly shucked off his jeans and shirt, replacing them with the clothes Sammy had picked up. The hunter, for whom comfort and ease of movement had always been the most important aspect of his clothing choices, immediately recognized that the gray denim snug about his hips was going to provide the exact source of irritation he had feared. At least the shirt didn't feel much different from the ones he wore everyday.

After the quickest wardrobe change in history, Dean started to strap on the shoes he usually sported with his FBI disguise. "Okay Cas, coast is clear."

He heard a slight shuffle from the far side of the room and glanced over before he could stop himself. ~~His~~ The angel had already finished changing. Since Dean hadn't heard any rustling from that side of the room, Cas must have used some of his mojo. 

If Dean had to guess, he suspected there was nothing that would make him fit in tonight. But Cas... Cas looked the part. He was clad in a cerulean button-up that looked like it was made of silk. The clinging blue material fit him like a second skin, and his dark blue jeans weren't any more forgiving. 

Dean knew he was staring, and wrenched his gaze away, settling it instead on the closed bathroom door. Behind him, Cas kept his face as neutral as possible, but found himself unable to keep the corners of his eyes from crinkling up at the hunter's display. The angel knew he affected Dean as Dean affected him, but the man had always been able to restrain his emotions into a semblance of control.

Suddenly Dean was angry. Before he knew it, he was banging on the offending door. 

"Sammy! You decent?"

"Give it a rest, Dean! I'll be out in a minute."

Dean practically growled. "Dammit Sammy! Put some pants on and let me the hell in!" 

Wanting to stall the eruption that was evidently imminent, judging from his brother's voice, a mostly-dressed Sam opened the door only to have Dean barge in and shut it behind him. 

One look at the older hunter told Sam everything he needed to know; Dean was uncomfortable, pissed about it, and going to take it out on him.

"You think Cas should be going out in _that_?" 

"In a nice shirt and jeans? Yes, I think I do."

"He looks like he's... Dammit, I thought you were going to pick him up some practical clothes?" Even Dean picked up on the note of hysteria creeping into his voice.

"We did. These are practical for the case, and we also picked up enough regular clothes for Cas to lose the trenchcoat once in a while." 

"We're going into a club. A _gay_ club. There will be men there looking for an easy lay, and in the clothes you got him wearing, they're going to think Cas is looking for the same thing!"

"You realize that not only do you frequently look for women in the exact same way, but you're wearing basically the exact same thing? I know you're worried, but somehow I don't think Cas is naive enough to fall for some random guy's advances, much less on a case where doing so can potentially get the guy _killed_. Even if he did, he has his mojo; he'll be fine." Sam thought he was doing a pretty good job of avoiding the real problem at hand.

"But you think he would if this wasn't a case?" 

"How the hell should I know? He's an angel. If you're so curious, go back out there and ask him yourself!" 

Dean looked as if his eyes were going to bulge out of his head. "I'm not a girl, Sammy!"

Sam was getting annoyed. "Then don't act like one. Look, Dean. If you want my honest opinion, our friend out there isn't interested in anyone he's going to meet in a bar. Now leave me alone so I can finish getting ready."

Dean snorted. "Now who's the girl? Fine, but since you're with Cas tonight you keep an eye on him." 

Sam rolled his eyes. "Get out, Dean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of stuff I'm trying to do here, let me know what you think!


End file.
